


Your Outstretched Hand

by DraloreShimare



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Former Obi-Wan/Satine Kryze, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 19:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11974275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraloreShimare/pseuds/DraloreShimare
Summary: Cassiline Obi-Wan Kenobi holds vigil under Elua's compassionate gaze.





	Your Outstretched Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Persian Slipper & Coat for the beta work.

Obi-Wan knelt before the statue of Elua, larger than life, and felt peace.

For others, the Longest Night was a time for revelry. Indeed, the noblewoman that he helped protect had taken his brother-in-arms to her gathering with the intent of staying within their guard. Anakin, perhaps, would spend his vigil on one of the balconies of the country estate. Or in the garden. Or, Obi-Wan admitted to himself, there was a chance... He saw how they watched each other. 

Blessed Elua himself had likely fanned the embers of love that lay within them. Between them.

Around him, the snow dusted the stubborn winter grass as well as the hedges and bare bushes that would bloom sweetly come spring. And the statue of Elua in this sanctuary worn a crown of it as well, stark against the faded cinnamon of his hair that cascaded unbound around his shoulders. Unbound as his love for the land and the people within it.

Sighing, he shifted, crossing his bare feet beneath him.

No matter. Others in the Brotherhood might condemn Anakin, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t. Couldn’t. 

Love as thou wilt. 

Even Cassiel, though remaining celibate, had still loved as he would in following Elua.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting his hands fall open in his lap. 

Condemning Anakin would only deny his own past; he had felt the pull of love and not been strong enough to pursue it. He’d been too young and fiercely certain of himself and his vows. Foolish. Untried.

Unthinking.

He breathed the harsh cold in deeply, the air biting as he dragged it in through his nostrils. At its slow release, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to watch the cloud of vapor dissipate. The sanctuary had grown darker; lights had been extinguished in the surrounding buildings of Elua’s Temple. Past the grey stone buildings - the meeting hall, the living quarters - the field swept on flatly, only rising into hills in the vast distance. And then, he could only make out the vaguest of details in the starlight. He knew if he turned to look behind, the archway entrance would frame the road that wound down to the town - brightly decorated inns and houses and mansions and temples - and the revelers that included his shared charge.

His hands flexed in his thick, grey leather gloves, the blood flowing sluggishly with the cold. How long would his years be marked by this vigil? Obi-Wan had already seen twenty vigils; he’d marked his thirtieth birthdate only a few months ago. 

He'd been training still when Satine had marked two vigils with him. Marked two and asked him to come away with her, as though leaving the Cassilines was so simple.

He realized now that it could well have been.

Obi-Wan stared at Elua’s outstretched hand, lost in thought until the crunching of frosted grass and the flicker of nearby candle light broke his reverie.

With a foggy sigh, he straightened his back, twitching with restrained reaction when a hand alighted on his shoulder.

“Well met, Cassiline.” Deep and rolling, the voice reminded him of comfortable childhood days in that spotty time before he'd been sent to the Brotherhood.

He swiveled his head, eyes arrested by the man’s feet as he came to stand to Obi-Wan’s right, perhaps a half-step forward. “And you, Priest of Elua.” 

The dawn-blue robes settled just over the flat of his foot, the well-articulated toes flexing as he stood there. There’d been a glimpse of his tough soles - feet used to walking bare on the ground as befitted one of Elua’s faithful. The warm candle glow delineated the more prominent veins on the top of his foot, and let his robe cast shifting shadows on the ground.

“Your vigil goes well?”

Obi-Wan dragged his gaze upwards, over the trailing lengths of hair that ribboned past the man’s elbows, the floppy cuff of sleeve that wrinkled over his wrist and pointed to the thickly jointed hand that rested against his side.

“Yes. And your night?”

“Quiet as one could hope on the Longest Night.” He met Obi-Wan’s eyes and smiled. “Terre d’Ange finds it difficult to worry when there’s cause for celebration.”

“Mm.” His lips quirked in response before he drew his gaze back to Elua’s hand. Around them, the sky began to lighten in false-dawn.

“You guard the noblewoman, Padme?” 

Obi-Wan blinked and glanced back upward. “Aye. Myself and one brother.”

“There are few as worthy as she. Thank you, for your guardianship.” 

And blessings be upon you, Cassiline.” The priest brushed his lips against Obi-Wan’s forehead, a spot of tender warmth that rapidly faded, and then turned to go.

Obi-Wan half-rose from his kneeling posture, twisting around impulsively, “Obi-Wan.”

“Blessings be upon you, Obi-Wan. And my thanks.” 

Obi-Wan watched as the priest floated in a pool of candle light past the corner of the dining hall before returning to his vigil. More pleasant now than before.

And only as he returned to the town did he realize he’d forgotten to ask the priest’s name.


End file.
